


Blood, Sweat, and Tears

by newbensolo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloody Noses for Blowjobs, Blowjobs, M/M, Sam in 90's clothes, Sam is 17 in this, bloody noses, not angst just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbensolo/pseuds/newbensolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He closed his eyes and let his legs slide to a more relaxed pose. He didn't hear the creak of the couch springs or the footsteps. Dean's low voice wolf whistling is what startled him, his heart pounding at the body now between his legs and the hand on his chest holding him down. His hazel eyes fly open and into the bright green of his brother's. “Heya, Sammy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Author's Note:**

> well, I'm going to burn in hell. I hope you enjoy this.

      Long legs wired with muscle and tan skin. Sam's in those sky blue jogging shorts with an ugly green around the edges; they're made from that material that makes your ears hurt when it rubs together. His socks are barely to midcalf. His sneakers are the same beat up, monster blood stained ones that he's had since they were barely staying put on his foot. The t-shirt he's wearing was handed down too late, and the front is stretched tight across his lean torso. The dirty and sweat is mixed in with the bright, multi sized stripes. His cheeks are past tan and have burnt into a permanent blush. The bridge of his nose is peeling slightly; another cause for the near constant crease in his brow.

     The slanted blue-green eyes stare half lidded at his brother’s shadowed form against the violet horizon. Puberty has taken over the formation of Sam’s face, stripping the baby fat and leaving a sharp, square jaw behind. His brown hair hangs damp from sweat against his neck and the bangs lay flat on his forehead. Sam returns his eyes back to the pages of his summer reading book, trying to ignore the way the muscles of his brother's back look as he hefts the boxes of ammunition onto his shoulders. Dean carries the boxes to the trunk of the Impala, placing them over the compartment that holds the various firearms and blades.

     The falling sun makes Dean's profile easier to discern. His chest is bare, his shirt is shed due to the ungodly summer heat. They were in a back woods house they’d rented for a fair price. The air-conditioning only worked if you'd kicked it a few times, but the floors were wood and the walls lacked mysterious stains. They were at peace with their situation. Sam was free from the school routine for a few more weeks, but by then Dad would probably have gotten back to them.  
     There were only two boxes left in the dried out grass. Thankfully the sun had finally left the sky and only a few straggler shades of pink and orange remained at the horizon. Dean wiped his forehead in the corner of Sam's vision, and picked up one of the remaining boxes. “Come on, Samantha, get off your over grown ass and help get this last box into the car.”

      With an overly put upon sigh Sam placed the book he hadn't been reading onto the grass beside him and stood. His bones creaked with the sudden movement. His vision grew black at the edges as the blood rushed from his head to the rest of him. The muscles of his thighs ached as a reminder of the day's rigorous physical training. Sometimes he wished Dean didn't cling so tightly to Dad's orders. As he picks up the last box, and balanced the weight on his tan shoulder he can't help the way his dick twitches at the sight of his brother bent partially over arranging the contents of the trunk.

     Sam comes up beside Dean and slides the box to the back right corner of the trunk. He's seen both his dad and Dean load that trunk every year of his life. Dean straightened up and looked over at him. Sam had just begun to tower over his brother, growing in painful spurts more often than they changed states. Dean muttered to himself and continued fiddling with the boxes. Dean had taken to standing as tall as he could next to Sam, like he was trying to keep his authority as older brother. A half smile slid onto Sam's face at the thought. Sometimes Dean did the most ridiculous things but it was just Dean.

    Speak of the devil, Dean looked over at him, and wiped the sweat off his brow. “What're you smiling about, huh?” Dean chuckles, and Sam feels his knees quiver. “Was PT not enough to wear your ass out? I'm sure we could always get in a few more miles.”

 “Woah, jerk, no need to kill me. It's getting dark anyway we should go inside and make dinner, _you_ can check the salt lines.”

  Dean laughs and shuts the trunk. He turns and starts walking across the lawn to the broken porch steps. Sam slouches his shoulders and follows, pausing to pick up his abandoned book.

//

“Dean”  
   He sees the blonde head turn to the side, his eyes still glued to the scratchy television screen. Sam’s arms begin to ache from propping himself up. The headphone is pushed off his right ear, All Apologies playing loud enough to lower the quality. Sam pauses the Walkman and pushing it away one handedly. The headphones tug at his hair and he winces. Sam spreads his too long legs and pulls his heels to his thighs. “Dean.”  
  “Huh?” the grunt's still not accompanied by his stare. Sam falls back on the lumpy mattress with a sigh and his hands sliding through his sweat damp hair. He closes his eyes and lets his legs slide to a more relaxed pose. He doesn't hear the creak of the couch springs or the footsteps. Dean's low voice wolf whistling is what startles him, his heart pounding at the body now between his legs and the hand on his chest holding him down. His hazel eyes fly open and meet bright green. “Heya, Sammy.”

“ _Dean_.” Sam's voice is swallowed by Dean's mouth, the hand still planted on his chest. His stomach caves in as Sam struggles to catch his breath. He remembers how to use his hands and strokes his brother's sides, and back  The sweaty cotton of his t-shirt sticking to Dean's skin. Sam curses the lack of airconditioning. His legs squeeze tight around his brother's waist to pull him closer.  
      Dean pulls his lips from Sam's and begins peppering his browned flesh and lightly sucking bruises along Sam's neck. He looks up at his young brother who's biting his lip to keep from whimpering. Dean nuzzles the crease between neck and shoulder, pressing benign pecks to the precious skin. He keeps this up, spreading the light kisses across Sam's jaw and collarbone. He waits for Sam to crack, and it doesn't take long.  
“Dean, please _bite_ me! Mark me up.”  
     Dean smirks against Sam's shirt, his grease stained hands pulling the collar down. His nose pressed to collarbone he kisses the warm skin, and chuckles at the frustrated whimper he receives. He pauses for another few seconds before pulling the pulling the skin between his teeth. He bites and sucks until there's mouth shaped bruises blurring across the top of Sam's chest and his neck. If Dean thought John was coming back anytime soon he might worry. Now though all his thoughts are focused on the way Sam's hips are pushing up to meet his and the sharp gasps falling from his lips are chipping away and Dean's control.  
     It's only a matter of time before Sam's grinding down against his older brother’s thigh with bruises taking up most of his chest. His shirt pushed up to his armpits. Dean's hands get busy undoing his jeans, and Sam hurriedly tries to pull the too tight shirt completely off, his head getting stuck in the collar and his too long arms tangled at the elbow. Dean's got his jeans pooling at his ankles when he notices the messy pile of Sam. He can't help the laughter at the sight. Sam flails angrily and kicks blindly but Dean easily swerves. His ankles twist as he dodges another and he lands face first on to Sam.  
   “Dean!” Sam's voice is muffled. “Dean! Stop laughing and get this thing off of me.”  
“You sure, Sammy? I think this look really works for you.”  
     Sam huffs in frustration and tries to release himself from the shirt, Dean hears the impact of flesh on flesh and winces through his laughter. “Dean, come on! I just elbowed myself in the face and I really want to get off.” His voice is a suffered whine, and Dean calms himself enough to kick off his jeans and pull the shirt fully over Sam's head.  
      When the shirt is off Dean sees a trickle of blood coming from Sam's nose and feels bad for not helping him sooner. He stoops down and he gives his baby brother a kiss, a drop of blood mixing in with their lips. Pulling back, Dean looks into Sam's hazel eyes, the pupils are blown and he can feel a renewed erection pressing into his hip. The blood is still flowing from Sam's nose and Dean's brow furrows in worry. He knows that Sam will probably end up with a black eye, the clumsy dork.  
His attention is caught by the shy pink tongue that flashes across his lips, swiping a few drops of the metallic fluid. Dean groans and feels a pang of arousal in his stomach that lightning flashes to his cock. He keeps his eyes open this time as he gets closer to Sam's face, his baby brother's gaze never moving from his own. He laps at the blood that's dripped to Sam's chin. He feels the shiver that runs through Sam and slides his fingers through the waves in Sam's floppy hair. His other hand creeps past the waistband of Sam's shorts and wraps around the leaking erection. Dean kisses Sam and jerks his cock in the hard, fast way he knows will get Sam off the quickest. He wants to try something before the blood dries up.  
      Sam whines and twitches underneath Dean, his hips thrusting into the rough hand. He tries to grab at Dean's crotch, but Dean only kisses him harder. There's a whisper against his lips but he can't even process it because Dean's teeth have sunken into his lip and the pain is like a livewire to his brain. He gasps and tosses his head back, giving himself over to the pleasure. His voice hasn't cracked since he was 15 years old, but as Sam comes in his brother's fist with the taste of blood on his tongue he can't help the broken yelp that escapes him. Dean's hand strokes him through the euphoria and when he moans from oversensitivity he realizes that his lip has split open.  
      “Sammy, I've got something I wanna try alright?” Dean's voice is soft letting Sam know his brother is nervous about what he wants.  
       Sam cracks an eye open and looks at Dean's face, his eyes moving to the still straining erection that's in his brothers boxers. He pushes his hair from his eyes and leans up on his elbows. He tries to talk but he manages only a weak croak. Wetting his lips, he tries again. “I'm down as long as you get rid of the shirt and boxers.”  
    Dean nods and begins to strip. Sam's reminded of his own cum sticky stomach and shorts. He doesn't have the energy to take them off so he focuses on getting himself upright. He looks up and Dean is in front of him, this time naked. He lifts an eyebrow, waiting for the plan of whatever Dean wants to do.

    “I..I, uh, you look really fucking hot with blood smeared across your face, ok? and I was thinking maybe...maybe you suck me off with it there?” Dean had begun the scratch at the back of his neck, a habit he used when he felt guilty for asking Sam to do something a bit weird during sex. And like every other time he was guilty for no reason because Sam was more than happy to do this for Dean. He like his lips thinking about it and felt the sting reminding him that his lip was split. He cracked a smirk and slid to the wood floor in front of Dean.  
      Looking up, Sam bit down on his lip and renewed drops of blood began to appear on his stained mouth. Dean groaned and his cock twitched as he watched the whole ordeal. There was his baby brother, barely 17 years old, in ugly blue shorts that were barely long enough to cover his ass; he was on his knees with blood drying on his face ready to suck his older brothers dick.  
  “Oh god, I fucking love you so much, babyboy.”  
That was the last thought that register in Dean's head as Sam's lips curled around his cock.  
//  
    Sam pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at Dean through his hair. His lips were swollen from stretching around his brothers dick and his lip and split further. “Dean..I've got an idea,” Sam started voice rough, “I think you should hit me-” Dean's eyes widen and he tried to begin to refuse, Sam was faster though.  
   “Dean! I'm not saying like abuse me, but if you punch me in the nose I'll bleed again, and I trust you not to break my nose like I would if I did it myself. Please, Dean?” Sam batted his eyelashes up at his older brother trying to get his way. He saw the warring in Dean's emotions and gave the head of his dick a few shallow sucks. “Please, Dean.”  
Dean knew he was screwed, no pun intended, the second Sam looked at him through his sweat matted hair. “Alright, Sam. You know I'd do anything for you, baby brother.”  
    Sam's stomach fills with a content affection for his brother, his soulmate. His dick twitches perversely in anticipation. He's such a mess. Dean's closed fist lands on the side if his nose, the impact startles him. He groans in pain, but knows it's not broken. However, blood has begun to flow from his nose again and Sam smiles reassuringly at his brother.  
    He wastes no time before diving back into his interrupted fellatio, he's got a major boner again and he wants to get off with Dean in his mouth. The blood slides to his lips and smears across Dean's dick. He pulls Dean's hand from his shoulder, and directs it to his hair. Sam's not in the mood to do much more than be used. He loosens his jaw and looks into bright green eyes, saying what he wants without a word. In no time is Dean fucking his mouth. Sam chokes and gags around him while jacking himself off, the shorts pushed half way down his thighs.  
   It's when Dean notices that tears have mixed with the blood on Sam's face and consequently the mess on Dean's cock that he really loses it. He focuses on reaching his climax, fucking into Sam's mouth without abandon, the muscles of Sam's throat tightening around him. Sam comes with a moan, and it transfers to the Dean's cock, triggering his brother's orgasm.  
    Dean's curled over his brother, his hands clutching the messy strands as he comes down Sam's throat. When he's finished he releases his brother from his grasp and lets him take in struggling breaths. He pets Sam's face and pushes his hair off of his forehead as they both catch their breath. Sam presses a kiss to his brothers sweaty hip and lays his forehead on Dean's thigh. The smell of blood and sweat and sex have mixed together, neither of them really mind though. At the moment the only thing they're planning besides sleep is a warm, shared shower.


End file.
